insparation

Inspiration

No poems

Have magically arrived

Typed into a word document by

the shoemaker’s elves.

Are there poem writer’s elves?

 Fairies, minahunis, or pixies?

I suspect there are computer gremlins

But do they write poems?

No.

Poems must be thought,

then written.

They begin like the gentle raindrop

Collected by the reaching blade of grass

That gathers in secret places.

To puddle and pool

from a thought to an idea,

Until it escapes the limits

of the silent

and must be spoken.

The poem like the water,

Makes riverlets in thought.

Small channels pull on the present

And bring with them

 pebbles of the past.

Collecting the power of focus

in streams then rivers

Flowing with the force

And excitement of the new.

Then, like a water fall,

crashing on the rocks

of insipid existence

the poem

coalesces in the quiet pond

just beyond the bewildering splash

 and flows quietly

into being.